The Collision
by Chase me Charlie
Summary: She studied the man in front of her carefully dark skinned and dark haired, it couldn’t be him and yet she knew it was.' Hermione's present life collides with her past and she is forced to deal with the pain she has been bottling up for so long.R&R plz
1. Drake Malone

Looking around at what had once been a large empty space, the beautiful witch smiled to herself despite the physical pain which seemed to emanate from every pore of her sculptured body.

'Good job everyone' she said honestly, addressing the room of weary looking volunteers, "It's fabulous. No..." she said quietly now, smiling to herself, "it's magical."

Within a matter of minutes the room was empty of people and Hermione Granger found herself alone, sitting atop the magnificent stage leaning against an amplifier. It had taken eleven long hours but they had finally managed to transform the downtown London club into a beautiful up-market entertainment venue. The ceiling had been adorned with hundreds of sparkling gold and silver stars and, as she sat staring up, she was reminded of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, a sad smile escaping her lips. Things had certainly changed dramatically over the past five years, now twenty-two years old her future had taken a decidedly different course to what she had written in her "where I'll be five years from now" mock-prophecy which all Hogwarts students had completed in their final year of school.

She remembered the times where she had imagined herself at about this age. She was a healer, engaged to her life-partner and friend Ron Weasley who had a great job under his father at the ministry. Sometimes she longed for that life, it had at one stage been practically offered to her on a sliver platter and then she had refused. Yes, it was a shock to everyone, Hermione Granger refusing the future she had always been so certain of, but of course they understood. After the war everything had changed in Hermione's eyes, she no longer saw the magical world as a wonderful, interesting and challenging place – it was now filled with sorrow and mourning and loss.

So here she sat, atop the stage in the muggle nightclub on which they had used only sheer hard work and determination to create the beautiful decorations and magical atmosphere. She was currently operating as a freelance party planner and most of her work involved PR jobs for charitable organizations. The room in which she sat now would tomorrow night be filled with people from all over the country who had come to watch the band 'Base Addicts' (who Hermione had never heard of) perform, with seventy percent of proceeds being donated to the cancer research foundation.

She loved her job most of the time and it was suited to Hermione in many ways as more often than not it presented a challenge and had a decidedly unselfish nature attached to it. She was not paid much but this never bothered her. She managed to maintain a comfortable lifestyle in her London flat which she shared with her two cats Neville and Luna, and was often given the odd holiday, most recently to France, as a bonus from the sponsors who admired her hard work and dedication. However, Hermione found that her current existence lacked the excitement that she had thrived on in the magical word. The discovery and adventure of the wizarding world were regularly the subjects of her dreams and she often awoke in the morning out of breath yet tremendously happy – that was what she missed.

The club was packed with people and Hermione could hardly move as she struggled through the masses of youths waving their hands in the air, chanting out-of time lyrics and trying adamantly to capture the attention of the three men on stage. Hermione held her breath as she ducked under the sweaty arms of a group of several men and made her way past the girls who were screaming declarations of love to the lead singer. Reaching the bar Hermione propped herself on the metal stool, ordered a drink from the bartender and then turned to watch the performance. This definitely was not her kind of music, she thought to herself, as the song came to the end with a screeching guitar solo. Paying for her drink Hermione brought the sweet pink liquid to her lips as the finale song started. Unlike the others, this one had a much more somber and poetic consistency to it. The lyrics told of lost love and moving away, and whether it was the alcohol or the flooding memories Hermione didn't know, but she found herself swaying hypnotically along with the crowd as the torrent of emotion she had been holding back for so very long washed over her: "it's time to go, I've stayed to long, There's nothing here for me anymore…I'd love to stay, and hold your hand, but you will be just fine without me."

The band bowed to the tremendous round of applause and the girls in the front row screamed once more as the lead singer took of his white t-shirt and threw it into the crowd. Then the trio disappeared back stage and Hermione realized it was her time to take to the mic. The crowd was thinning already as the well-dressed, curly haired woman took to the stage. "Boys and Girls," she said steadily "before you go I would just like to remind you all that donations to the cancer research foundation can be made in the envelopes by the door on your way out. Thank you all for your wonderful support of this very worthy cause. Have a good night." The crowd cheered once again and people began exciting the packed establishment, some donating on their way out.

When everyone had left Hermione and the other staff members relaxed on the been bags sipping on cocktails and generally having a good time. The members of the band were due to join them soon and Hermione found herself becoming the slightest bit nervous. She didn't know why but that final song had really struck a cord with her and despite herself she, like the girls who had screamed in the front row, found herself thinking of ways to impress the lead singer.

She had grown into a beautiful woman over the years. Her hair which had been frizzy and untamable throughout school had now discovered the wonderful world of straightening tongs. Her GHD was definitely a prized possession as well as a necessity and she used it to created soft flowing hair which was definitely the envy of all her friends. Both her face and body had matured, her cheekbones rivaled those of top catwalk models whilst her waist and curvaceous hips gave her a beautiful womanly figure. Without knowing it Hermione managed to capture the hearts of almost every man she met, however since the loss of her boyfriend Ron in the war she had been unable to open herself again to another man.

She snapped out of her thoughts suddenly as she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. Looking up from her comfy position on the beanbag she found herself staring into the eyes of the extremely handsome lead singer.

"Do you know where a muggle can get a drink" he whispered into her ear.

"Sure," she said smiling, "the bars still open. I can recommend the…." She stopped in her tracks realizing what he had said to her, a faint smile playing upon his lips.

She studied the man in front of her carefully dark skinned and dark haired, it couldn't be him and yet she knew it was.

"Malfoy?" she whispered.

"Please Granger, call me Drake. Drake Malone"


	2. The morning after

Hermione Granger was sitting at the bar paying no attention to the sickly looking cocktail in her hand. Her mouth was wide open as she sat staring at the handsome man opposite her occasionally nodding her head and spilling drops of the fluorescent pink liquid as she tried to fully comprehend the elaborate story unfolding.

She was aware that by this stage she had consumed more alcohol than she usually would in a month but this unexpected reminder into the world she had left behind was helping her to sober up quite quickly.

"After my fathers betrayal of Voldermort we had no choice but to go into hiding. My mother wouldn't let me stay in the manor so I was pretty much thrust head first into the muggle world, got myself a nice little flat and realized that I might actually have to start working for a living. Of course I had no idea what I was going to do… I mean I hadn't even heard of a computer at that stage. Anyway shortly after I made friends with Tommy and Rocko, and they had a little band going on - said they needed a lead singer…I've always had a good voice so I thought why not I'll give it a go… and here I am." He finished looking into the eyes of the witch opposite him as he downed a rather large swig of beer.

Hermione's head spun as she tried to take everything in at once. The story was shocking enough in itself but it was the situation she found even more confronting. Even before she had left the wizarding world she would never have imagined that one day she would be sitting down, actually _enjoying_ a drink with Draco Malfoy. And she would never in her wildest imagination have thought that he would grow into such a charming, mature and above all modest human being.

"Oh god," he cringed looking at his watch, "I've been talking about myself for ages. Tell me Granger, what's your story?"

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but no words came. Instead only Ron's face entered into her mind and she realized she had been blocking out her past life for so long she couldn't physically bring herself to talk about it.

"Oh mine's nothing interesting," she replied with a tone of forged indifference which she hoped he wouldn't notice, "just needed a change of scenery."

He nodded slowly, obviously not convinced yet he said nothing further.

And so the two sat at the almost empty London club, amidst torn decorations and hundreds of empty glasses – both content to accept that the other had secrets yet innocently ignorant to the fact that this was only the beginning of a special relationship.

Waking up to a severe hangover Hermione groaned as she leaned over to de-activate the agonizingly loud alarm clock on her bedside table before flopping back down onto the comforting warm pillows. It was a dismal May morning outside and the wind rattled the windows wildly causing her head throb more painfully with each burst of noise. Through groggy eyes she noted the appalling state of her apartment. Her clothes from the previous night littered the floor along with an empty pizza box and she could just make out the blurry shape of two wine glasses dangerously close to the edge of her dresser. With that thought she sat bolt upright, wincing as the blood rushed into her pounding head. Scanning the apartment for any signs of life she collapsed thankfully back onto the bed as she realized her visitor from last night would not be witnessing her less than attractive morning visage.

Closing her eyes again she tried to remember the previous night's events. With severe effort she managed to recall the cab ride home to her apartment… they had ordered pizza and watched the late night re-runs of sex and the city…after that her mind was a blank.

Knowing that she had to work in less than an hour Hermione hauled herself onto her elbows once more and steadily made her way into the tiny bathroom. The sight of herself in the mirror almost made her jump; her hair had just about regressed back to the bushy tangle it was at school and her makeup was smeared unattractively around her face. The worst part however was her attire which up until this moment she hadn't really considered. She was wearing her horrible grey sweater, which usually only came out of the closet when painting was in order, and long purple and pink polka-dot socks which she could have sworn she threw out in the last big cleanup six months ago.

Hermione arrived at her meeting looking fresh-faced and well attired, however still feeling a little worse for wear. Thankfully it seemed to go un-noticed by her potential clients who exclaimed they were thoroughly interested in hiring her to plan a benefit for burns victims and would be in touch very soon.

After her meeting Hermione followed the usual early morning ritual of indulging in a mango smoothie from the local organic juice bar and a brisk walk on the bank of the Thames. The sun had managed to make an appearance and the tourist season seemed to be in full swing, everywhere she looked Hermione could see young couples taking photographs together or indulging in little public displays of affection. She couldn't help but feel a little jealous and there was something else… was it anger? It had been five years since the death of her boyfriend and she felt like she had hardly made any ground at all in the recovery process. She rarely cried herself to sleep at night anymore, however Ron was always the first thought that popped into her head when looking at another man, she supposed it was natural but she couldn't help but feel this would hinder her from any prospect of a romantic relationship down the track.

Crossing the path and ducking into the nearby coffee shop she ordered a Chai Latte and sat down at a small table by the window with a gossip magazine. She hardly ever made an effort to keep up with celebrity scandals; (a – because it didn't interest her and (b – the favorite subject always seemed to be new romances, something which always made her feel slightly uncomfortable. Flicking through the pages she stopped suddenly when she saw a full page glossy photo of a handsome man with tan skin and dark hair – his arm draped lazily around a skinny blonde and a cigarette dangling precariously from his mouth: "Drakes Spring Fling" the banner read.

For some reason Hermione suddenly felt herself go very cold and her hands begun to shake. Scanning the article she managed to discover that Carolina Karkova was the sexy woman pictured, and according to sources the two had been seen together numerous times since Drakes return from his Russian holiday in early April.

She had been staring at the picture for a while before she noticed that her mobile phone was ringing from the depths of her cluttered handbag, much to the annoyance of the other café patrons. Without deciphering who the call was from she picked it up hurriedly and was shocked to hear the unmistakable husky drawl on the other end.

"Hermione? Hi its Drake here. Probably a bit of a shock me calling you but you were quite adamant in giving me your number last night and considering the state I left you in I thought I'd give you a call – find out how your feeling today."

Hermione's cheeks glowed bright red and for a moment she thought she had lost her voice. "Draco… I mean Drake…Hi," was all that she could manage.

"So did you recover?" he questioned again cheekily

"Oh yeah, I'm fine I wasn't that bad last night?... Was I?" she added hopefully.

But the voice on the other end just laughed, "no no you were fine. Well if you call fine passing out on the bathroom floor covered in sick in the early hours of the morning. Sorry I didn't know what to do with your clothes, I just left them on the floor."

'Oh God' she said, not meaning it to be out loud then, "I'm so sorry."

"Oh don't worry about it kiddo," he said honestly, 'trust me I've dealt with a lot worse. Anyway it probably seems inappropriate to ask this considering last nights events but would you care to join me for a drink tonight?'

"A coffee?" she suggested lamely, though hoping he would see the amusing side.

"Sure thing, there's a great little place down the road from mine. I'll pick you up at eight?"

"That would be great," she said smiling and she meant it.

Hanging up the phone with a delirious smile on her face for the first time in ages she caught a glimpse of more pictures of Drake and Carolina frolicking on an Italian beach.

"Oh what am I getting myself into?" she sighed inwardly.


	3. Falling

"Say when." Drake smiled as he sat opposite the beautiful brunette, carefully pouring milk into her steaming coffee cup.

"Thanks," she said and then added cautiously, "you've changed a lot."

"Not as much as you think," he grinned cheekily, staring into her warm hazel eyes.

"No, you really have," she persisted. "I mean back at school you despised me, I never would have imagined that the two of us could be sitting in a muggle café enjoying a conversation with each other. Of course I've changed a lot two, we both have, I was a know-it-all book worm and you were a…" she trailed off blushing.

"Spoilt brat?" he offered. "I know I was - I can't deny that. But during the war I came to realize that everything my family stood for and everything that side stood for was completely ridiculous. Especially since moving to London it's all hit me so hard, I can't believe how much time I wasted thinking about bloodlines and all that crap. But despite all that I can still be an arrogant, selfish sod some times… but don't let that put you off, I'm really enjoying this new found friendship."

God he had matured, Hermione thought to herself, and yet there was still that twinkle in his eye and the way he held himself that was something distinctly Malfoy.

"So why did you hate me so much at school?" she asked. His face fell and she mentally slapped herself, here he was apologizing for everything – why did she feel the constant need to push people the whole time.

"To be honest," he relented "his face paling despite the tan, "I always sort of fancied you."

"What!" Hermione exclaimed before bursting into a fit of giggles. When was the last time I laughed this hard she mused. "But I was granger," she reasoned, "bushy haired, prudish Granger."

"I know," he smiled "I liked it, you were so much smarter than all the other girls, so much more confident in just being you. Of course back then I could never admit to myself that I actually found you attractive. That's probably half the reason I was so horrible to you the whole time. Oh, and Weasley - I still can't stand the git."

The laughter stopped and he knew he had said something wrong. Her eyes were glazed over and she seemed to be biting her lip as if to stop herself from bursting into tears.

"Hermione, are you ok?" he asked in genuine concern.

"I… I think I should go home, I just had a really bad headache come on. Probably not entirely over my hangover yet." She lied.

"Sorry, coffee was a stupid idea. You wait here I'll call us a cab back to my apartment," he said. And before she had the chance to decline his offer he had taken his cellphone and exited café, leaving the door bells jingling merrily in his wake.

Draco's apartment was not at all how Hermione had imagined it. In their prior conversations he had described it as modest with a nice view. It was in fact the largest penthouse apartment the witch had ever laid eyes on, and overlooking the Thames it also had the most spectacular views.

"Did you want to watch some movies or have a drink? Or did you just want to go to bed?" the handsome man asked turning to her.

"I'm sorry to be a wet but my head is really pounding, would you mind terribly if I just went to sleep?" she asked still lying.

"Sure," he said the concerned expression returning to his face. No one had ever refused him before especially not using the excuse of a hangover from two days ago… something was up.

"Well the guest bedroom is that door on the left, make yourself comfortable, and if you need anything just call, the walls are paper-thin."

"Thanks Draco," she said before retiring to the bedroom.

Sitting in bed she felt like the biggest idiot alive. There was an amazingly handsome man outside who had taken a genuine interest in her, he was nice, considerate, charming. He didn't know about the Ron situation, he hadn't even known his words would hurt her. But they did, they had twisted her stomach into a giant knot, and the laughter and the flirting and everything that had come prior to that comment only served to make Hermione Granger feel even more guilty.

Tears welled in her eyes as the memories of her boyfriend's funeral ran like a slide show through her mind. So many people had turned up to bid the kind hearted red head fare well. The eulogies performed by the family were beautiful, Ginny had recited a poem which touched the hearts of everyone in the crowd, Fred and George had created a beautiful firework display which saw images of Ron on a broom streaking across the sky in bright bursts of sparks. But she, his own girlfriend hadn't done anything – she hadn't even cried. "Ironic" she thought to herself, "seeing as that's all I do nowadays."

The was a soft knock at the door and Hermione quickly swiped the tears from her eyes and did her best to look as if she was suffering from a terribly bad headache.

"Come in" she voiced pathetically.

The now dark haired Draco Malfoy closed the door softly behind him and made his way over to the bed where the magnificent woman lay before him. "God she was beautiful" he thought "but she looks so sad, there's definitely something she's not telling me."

"Hermione," he said out loud, "look, if I have done something to offend you please tell me."

But the girl only shook her head and Draco saw tears escape the corners of her eyes before she buried herself beneath the soft Egyptian cotton sheets.

He paused not knowing quite what to do. The only time he had seen a girl bury herself beneath his sheets had been in a gesture of welcomed foreplay, which was obviously not the case in this scenario he thought sadly. From beneath the covers he could still make out the form of her voluptuous body, her beautiful rounded ass curved gently and the hollow in her back defined her tiny waist. Mentally shaking himself out of his inviting day dreams he realized that the girl was now sobbing heavily.

Slowly dragging the sheets down, he now saw the pain which was etched all over Hermione's face and realized it was not physical at all, the sadness in her eyes revealed it went much deeper than he was able to understand. And despite their history and the fact that even recently Drake constantly found himself unable to sympathize on an emotional level, he scooped the shaking witch into his arms and held her tightly, kissing her soft fragrant hair, and it all felt so right.

Hermione went rigid as she felt the sheets being swept of her body and the strong muscular arms enveloping her. But she soon relaxed feeling the comforting beat of his heart as he kissed her hair in a loving way, something she had been missing for a long time. Raising her head slightly she looked up at him, and for the first time in ages she didn't see Ronald's face in the back of her mind, she didn't feel the guilt which had haunted her for what seemed like an eternity, she only saw the sparkling gray eyes and realized that the fight was over, Hermione was falling for him, and falling hard.

"Ron died," she said, not at all eloquently but at least she had stopped crying "and I know we haven't seen each other in ages, but I like you and it scares me because you're the first person who's made me feel this way in a long time."

Draco's heart sank remembering what he had said in the café, now understanding her reaction. But at the same time he felt relived, she liked him, and despite everything that told him it could never work he knew he liked her too.

When Hermione felt his lips on hers she didn't pull away. Instead she let him explore her mouth, feeling his warm tongue arouse her senses for the first time in years. His soft lips moved to her kneck, caressing her delicately and sending shivers down her spine. Lost in the moment of passion and discovery of something unexpected, the kisses became rougher and more urgent as both of them realized this was going to be more than just a fling, this was the start of something much more meaningful. Neither of them knew where it would end up, and for once neither of them cared.


End file.
